Blindspotting: Fugazi, "Repeater"

The Legacy: Unless you were wired into the post-hardcore scene, you probably spent much of the '90s hearing more about Fugazi than actually hearing them, due largely to the fact that they were a staunchly indie act whose minimal chart presence was dwarfed over time by the heaps of alterna-cred they earned by spending their entire career giving the finger to the music industry. And it wasn't just some pose, either — while vaguely similar artists (including a couple of acts on their own Dischord imprint) cashed in with major label deals, Fugazi never lost sight of what really mattered to them, namely touring like madmen, keeping CD and ticket prices as low as possible, and rocking everyone's asses off. When they ran out of creative gas in the early aughts, they held fast to that ethos, opting for an Irish goodbye after wrapping the tour for 2001's The Argument; rather than officially breaking up, they simply went on what seems likely to be a permanent hiatus.

First Impressions: In the spirit of total honesty, I have to admit that I spent years mentally mixing up Fugazi and Kyuss, because I knew very little about either group other than that they were loud, fiercely independent, and likely nothing I wanted to listen to. I still haven't sampled any Kyuss, but based on Repeater, I feel like I could have and probably should have given these guys a chance a lot sooner. I'm virtually certain I would have taken the cassette out of the stereo and chucked it out a window in 1990, when it was released, but that's just because I would have been way too hung up on things like "production values" and "killer melodies" or "singalong choruses" to appreciate the fact that even this early in their journey, this band was tight as hell. Like, lethally tight. Bassist Joe Lally repeatedly identified James Brown as an early influence, and although you certainly wouldn't call Fugazi's music funky, knowing they had a healthy appreciation for getting on the good foot gives you a really interesting perspective on this record's lockstep grooves. In the moment, I would have focused on wondering what the hell these guys were so pissed off about. Now I can appreciate it.

These guys were bashers, but not to the extent that they let musical aggression get in the way of actual songwriting; as an early mission statement from a band seemingly drunk on the power of volume, Repeater is damn near perfect. This record isn't all about the squall of feedback hitting you like a fist — it's actually a really disciplined set of performances in service of songs that reflect an innate understanding of the importance of dynamics. The whole thing doesn't come at you like an attack dog — it builds, it takes a breath, it builds again.

Hidden Gems: This is another Blindspotting entry that doesn't really lend itself to a "hidden gem," given that the vast majority of people who've bothered to listen to Repeater have probably pored over every last note. It isn't like the album had a hit single, or contains one or two Fugazi songs that everyone knows whether or not they're a fan. That being said, it looks like "Reprovisional" has the fewest streams of any song that was a part of the original track listing, so fuck it, let's go with that. Really, though — I've had Repeater on, uh, repeat all day, and I have zero regrets.